


Sleeping Beaut

by chenpai



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: BaekYeol - Freeform, Bittersweet, ChanBaek - Freeform, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chenpai/pseuds/chenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His feelings are sprouting back, his heart wearing its strongest vest empowered by the love that he carries on his sleeves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Beaut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@/allison](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40%2Fallison).



> This fic is written for the event #FightWithArrow. Thank you for participating!

The sun stares at him from above as he drives past green pastures and small houses. Everything’s coming into a slow motion as they pass through his peripheral view, another day to live by with an expectation as bumpy and unsure as the road beneath him. He was driving slowly on the third lane as he looked out the window.

 

The male takes a deep breath, his other hand that’s clutching onto the engine crawls towards the passenger seat next to him. Three sunflowers lay there, wrapped up tight and nicely with a baby purple ribbon.

Chanyeol’s heart was trembling two times more than it does every day. It’s trembling, shaking up his calm façade.

Because today, of all days, is the most important to him; today is the most precious day that Chanyeol has ever owned in his life.

With a deep breath, he steps on the gas, the truck rumbling poorly as it does what is intended, taking him faster towards his destination.

Chanyeol clenches a hand tightly on the steering wheel.

 

He drives past the gas station as usual. The tall teenager with a smug face eyes him just the same as he does on normal days. He drives off without blinking; body slump on the driver’s seat, Chanyeol weighs his options because he knows that he can always call off the visit today.

But three sturdy stop lights later, he doesn’t have a change of heart. His intentions stay the same, pure and seeking as the tall group of buildings come into view, the big red cross displayed on the tallest one, a silent scream, a voiceless prayer.

It reminds him of the letter he left half-read in his doorstep. They’ve been torn into pieces, and have probably already been blown by the wind.

Along with the quick beats of his heart was the churning in his stomach at the remembrance, making him wonder if there was a way he could sneak into the facility without being approached by the doctors.

 

As he comes to a stop, hesitant breaths leave him as though they’re ready to break and allow him to join the beauty in the lair; Chanyeol leaned hard against his seat, pushing back a breath, but at the same time sighing but with great difficulty. His heart felt like it was being squeezed to its limit, his nerves throbbing at the fear that have finally crept up beside him.

It takes him a few minutes to fix himself. With the clenching and unclenching of his jaw, he takes one last deep breath before he dashes out of the vehicle, walking on big-gapped hurried steps towards the reception area where the nurse who by now is familiar with his face stands up in attention.

“U-uh, Sir Park.” She mutters, “We can’t let you in right now.”

His hands go clammy at the sentence, his fingertips freezing at the words.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

Worry had squeezed him from inside out, probably giving the lady the idea of his thoughts that her troubled expression goes soft, realizing that she herself was giving him all the wrong signals.

“I apologize for the misunderstandings, Sir. It is only because you will have to see Doctor Kim before we allow you into your husband’s ward.”

Relief befalls him as if a feather had landed on his shoulders. He felt coated by the peace but nonetheless, his heart continues beating in an erratic manner as he finally accepts, nodding like a lost child.

“Could we please make this fast?”

The nurse nods, leaving her station to personally arrange the requirements for the meeting.

 

The conference room is dark and ugly, blinds blocking the sunshine, Chanyeol stands by the door as a silhouette of a man seated welcomes him in.

Chanyeol is told to go around towards the nearest seat, ushered after a handshake, he mindlessly sits himself down and holds onto himself as a thin bundle of documents are pushed towards him—everything is straight to the point, but wordless—a pen clicking on the background is placed right beside the sheet.

At the sight of the first line in the letter, the male was quick to shake his head and push the papers back towards the doctor.

“I’m not going to do this. I’ve already told you.”

“But Mr Park, we’re almost past the deadline.” Mr. Kim said with a strained voice, “He isn’t going to wake up.”

 

The words felt like whiplash, so early in the day. This was exactly why he’d been delaying the event, not wanting to snap at anything that is said concerning his little joy in one of their rooms. Chanyeol’s jaw set as something clicks inside him with anger.

 

“You are nobody to say that.” He hissed, “You don’t get to say that.”

“Mr Park,” The doctor tries again, his face apologetic but despite so, he knows what his intentions are.

“Baekhyun is going to wake up, doc.” He mutters, “Just let him stay.”

“We’re only offering you this choice because he’s almost past his due date, and the bills are pouring i—“

“He doesn’t have a due date! He’s not due for anything!” He argues, standing up angrily.

“Mr Park—“

“I don’t care about the bills, Doctor. Nobody cares about the bills! Baekhyun is not due for anything.”

“You have to make a choice, Mr Park. We’ll let this go for today, but please know that eventually, after a few more days, we will have this encounter again.”

“No.” He frowns, face crumpling at the doctor’s words, “We’re not going to have this conversation again, because Baekhyun will wake up.”

 

“He’ll wake up for me. For us.”

 

A freak accident, they called it. Everything had gone well that day, all according to plans with their relatives having flown in from different parts of the world.

It was a well-arranged plan in their life, a plan, so sorted out ever since the day Baekhyun had given him the first of all the Yeses that followed in their years together that nobody—not one of them entertained the thought that something so beautiful could turn awful overnight.

Chanyeol dreaded the day his phone rang that evening. The pouring rain outside wasn’t able to ruin the moment for him, yet one simple phone call had turned his smile into the deepest of frowns, sending him on his knees before he could even make out the words that were said to him by the person.

“There has been an accident in the highway, Sir. And we would like to inform you to immediately head to the hospital to know the details.”

For such a quaint town, words spread like fire, eventually offering them the wishes and sorrows.

 

It’s been 81 days according to the mini-calendar that’s hanging by Chanyeol’s dashboard.

81 days since he last heard that beautiful voice. 81 days since his well-thought of plan to finally make everything official with his soul mate.

The ring on Baekhyun’s finger has been there for 81 days, despite the fact that there is still no answer to his final question to spend their lives together, he’s pushed it into his boyfriend’s finger and had worn his own with confidence, declaring to anyone that asked that he’s a happily married man, bound to love the only Byun Baekhyun in all of his life.

 

He can’t help but hear the words in his own voice.

10 more days…

 

His body felt heavy the very moment he walked out of the conference room. There’s a chill crawling up to his spine, but he tries his in all his might to will it away, eventually walking towards the opposite wing.

White walls, white ceiling; crystal clear, the hospital had been nothing short but a blank canvas that’s waiting for both the good and the bad of news to befall the left behind.

Chanyeol could feel his heart being torn once more, the ache making its appearance evident and proud but he knows he shouldn’t feel this way.

For in this precious day, Chanyeol has more things to be thankful for. He has a lot of blessings to count, a lot of people to gather to celebrate with.

 

Tracing a thumb over the 81-day old band on his finger, he walks calmly towards the very last room.

His eyes briefly meets the receptionist’s whose wearing the same warm expression that she does when she knows the purpose.

 

His heart continues to beat quickly, thinking of nothing but the good, Chanyeol declares for himself to celebrate instead of worry. His feelings are sprouting back, his heart wearing its strong vest empowered by the love that he carries on his sleeves. He knows Baekhyun is waiting for him beyond that door, and on this special day, Chanyeol will not cry—he will not wish for the heavens to work their miracles, and he will not ask Baekhyun why.

 

With a click of the knob, the sound of the pumping air coupled with the heart rate monitor’s beeping is Chanyeol’s hymn.

As he walks quietly into the dark room, he raises the blinds up, pulling the curtains apart to let the sunshine in to greet his beloved.

 

There’s something bubbling on his throat, and his eyes begin to sting as he is face to face yet again with the state of the petite male. Wires, tubes and oxygen mask sheathe the male. Providing him comfort or suffrage, Chanyeol doesn’t know, not the tiniest piece of idea in his fuzzed head.

Because in his mind now, is merely the beauty of the man that he so very much loves, mind body and soul.

Baekhyun’s eyes are unmoving, his chest rising up and down. His hands remain soft-looking, lying on his tummy. The white patient gown seemed only to do him the favour, beautifying him in ways that Chanyeol probably didn’t want to see because his eyes only continue to sting harder from the inside.

From his point of view, Baekhyun looked like he was just sleeping. It’s as though he is merely on a journey that he has yet to accomplish, and that he will return once he’s ready.

 

A tear escapes him as he breathes in sharply, his chest rumbling at the beauty in front of him; Chanyeol raises a hand towards the side table.

“Happy Birthday, Baek.” Chanyeol greets and places the flowers there, voice rough and strained. “I hope you retire from being sleeping beauty soon.”

 

Swiftly, he takes his seat just by the patient’s side, taking his hand and squeezing it gently before he pecks him on his chapped lips.

It is unbeknownst to Chanyeol that by true love’s kiss, Baekhyun was very well on his way back to him.


End file.
